Voldemort Sucks
by narbiglarb
Summary: He's also a jerk


Voldemort sucks. Seriously. He thinks he's all that just because he kills everyone and is all big and bad and has the coolest gang of kids on the playground, but really. Who is he fooling?

Not me.

He thinks he is one marvelous fellow, but is he? What about him makes him interesting at all? Is killing people cool? Is having a group of masked and branded imbeciles some sort of amazing attribute? What about having absolutely no friends is at all cool? Yeah. I want to be _just like him. _

The only reason people like him is because they think he's a bad boy. I mean, with his cool ability to talk to snakes and weird red eyes, he is that hottie everyone swoons over in high school. Guess what, dear Voldy? You've graduated already! It's over! You're not the cool kid anymore! Maybe if you were French, had a leather jacket, were in a band, and had some boss sunglasses, people would think you were cool, but that will never happen.

Some people think that I only hate Voldemort as much as I do because I'm jealous. I'm Harry freaking Potter! I have nothing to be jealous of! Voldemort may think he's a hottie, but look at me; I'm a fox. A sexy, smokin' hot fox. Yeah. And anyway, the only cool aspects of Voldemort apply to me, too! I can talk to snakes, which allows me to score with the ladies. Bingo. I'm already as cool as Voldemort. And then, I'm freaking awesome. Voldy may have murdered a lot of people, but I've done much cooler stuff. I've killed a basilisk. I've almost died about three million times. I can defeat loads of dementors. I can stand up to Umbridge. I have Snape's potions textbook! Right there, I'm cooler than him.

But still, Voldemort sucks, man. He killed my parents, which is seriously uncool. Seriously. Who just walks into someone's house and kills everyone who lives there? I was one cute baby, and Voldemort, the stupid moron, tried to kill me. What a stupid freak! Who kills a baby? Who kills Harry freaking Potter? Who? And, plus, I had to grow up with a bunch of muggles all because Voldy thought it would be all cool to go and get killing curse happy. When you add in the fact that Voldemort is resonsible for the deaths of Lupin, Tonks, Fred, Dobby, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hedwig, and a butt-load of other people, I just get seriously mad and want to punch something. So I do. Punching stuff is bad, and it's all because of Voldemort that I do it and make my hand all bruised and bloody.

And then he's so stupid. In case I haven't mentioned it before, Voldemort is a stupid jerk. He thought he was the only one who knew about the Room of Hidden Things. What an idiot. How can he think he's the only one who has ever been in there when there are rows and rows of stuff just chillin'? How did that stuff get there? Did it just appear? No, it didn't! Other people hid their stuff there! Seriously, he has got to be mentally ill. If I hadn't of killed him, I'd escort him to St. Mungo's, or something.

Plus, he thought all of those horcruxes were safe and that nobody would ever find them. What now, Voldy? Check it out; I found them, destroyed them, and now you're dead. You were outwitted by a teenager. Ha. I found the diadem where you so stupidly left it in the Room of Requirement. I found the locket with the help of a house elf. The cup? I only had to break into Gringotts to destroy that one. The diary was cake – all I had to do was stab it with a tooth. Neville Longbottom killed the snake, for heaven's sake! And then, the ring? Easy. Dumbledore waltzed in with a sword, and boo-ya, it was gone.

And since you're so stupid, Voldemort, and I am so freaking awesome, I have written a poem about you. Now, get ready, Tom, because I am one ballin' poet. If you, even for a moment, doubt my amazing poetic skill, you will probably come back to life and die again. You may thing I suck at everything that isn't killing you, Voldy, but you will be shocked at how utterly cool I am. I love poems because they make me feel special. You know why? Voldemort, you are not a poet, but I am! So therefore, you're a lame jerk and I'm awesome.

I know that I'm no poet, Voldy, but if you listen well,

You'll know that you're all gross and moldy

And that you really smell.

I think that takes the cake. Actually, I know it takes the cake. Why? Because I'm awesome.

Voldemort, being the jerk that he is, cannot compare with me. Seriously. I'm Harry freaking Potter. I write poetry. I'm a hottie. I can speak parseltoungue. I'm about a billion times smarter than Voldemort. And guess what?

I'm not a stupid jerk.

Don't even get me started about those stupid Death Eaters...

**A/N: I'm for real...**

**This is just how I picture Harry thinking...**

**I'm terribly sorry if you find this troubling, but I had far too much fun writing this to actually mind if anyone is disturbed.**

**:D**


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